We Solemnly Swore, The Marauder's Code
by Siriusly in Lurve
Summary: Four men were bonded together as friends, and their code was a testament to that. They all broke the Marauder's code in very big ways, at different times for different reasons. This is the story of how and why.
1. Because He Loved Her

_October 30th, 1973_

_Being a Marauder, you must follow The Marauder''s code. In any dispute between Marauders, the code rules above all. If a Marauder breaks three of these rules within the same month, then he must accept the Marauder punishment. If the Marauder in question has done something to offend another Marauder, that Marauder may choose to create a punishment for the Marauder under trial. If not, the Marauder being trialed must do the default punishment. A trial must always be held, no matter the circumstances. If the Marauder being trialed has a strong enough case, they may be allowed to escape without punishment. Failure to adhere to the punishment means the default. Before being allowed to be a Marauder, you must swear on your brother's graves that you will follow the code as best as possible._

_The Marauder's Code_

_1. As a Marauder, you must always, always be up to no good whenever you can. (That includes our voice of reason, and yes, we mean you, Moony.)_

_2. Friendship above all. Should a Marauder be in need, it is your duty to aid them in any way you can._

_3. One Marauder must not hurt another about something he cannot control. (i.e. Furry little problems, horrible families, etc. Note: Teasing does not count. We can make fun of each other all we like. Ex: You can call Padfoot a twat, but you must NEVER blame him for some another Black did.)_

_4. A Marauder should never use the code as an excuse to be evil. (You may not say that you are just "up to no good" when you are truly hurting someone.)_

_5. A Marauder should never miss full moon without a very important reason._

_6. A Marauder must never keep secrets from the others unless the circumstances leave people in danger._

_7. No girl is ever allowed to come between the Marauders, no matter how beautiful, amazing, how in love you are with her, etc. No exceptions. (Yes, not even Lily Evans, Prongs.) _

_8. If a Marauder asks you to keep a secret to yourself, no one must know without the consent of that Marauder._

_9. A Marauder must never use any of his exceptional talents, charms, and other such things to critically harm another being. (Not even Snivellus, because unfortunately, he is considered to be a being. Although: Poking fun and using Levicorpus does not count.)_

_10. If someone does something to offend/hurt a Marauder in any way, then, with the permission of the offendee (Hey Moony, do you know if that's a word?) all Marauders will participate in the Marauder's Revenge. (The Marauder's Revenge is different depending on the subject of the prank, but generally it involves a lot of Transfiguration.)_

_11. A Marauder does not show pain to the general public. We mourn in silence._

_12. A Marauder must always stay true to the traits of Godric Gryffindor: loyalty, chivalry and bravery._

_13. Finally, in accepting that you are a Marauder, you give your solemn oath that you would die for your brother should the occasion come._

_James Potter _

Sirius Black

**Remus Lupin**

Peter Pettigrew

* * *

**The Code Part 1 - James**

_7. No girl is ever allowed to come between the Marauders, no matter how beautiful, amazing, how in love with her you are, etc._

_June 1977.  
_

He wasn't the first to break the code, nor would he be the last.

"Prongs," said Sirius Black in an unusually subdued manner, "We need to talk."

Seventeen-year-old wizard James Potter sat upon a squishy scarlet sofa in the Gryffindor Common Room, his legs stretched out onto the table in front of him. The warmth of the fire added a nice touch to the evening, and James didn't fancy moving, so he gestured to the place next to him. "Then have a seat and let's talk, Padfoot," responded James with a shrug. He was curious about his friend's unusually serious demeanour. It was very unlike his carefree friend to approach him like this.

"Not us, James." Sirius shook his head, for once using his friend's given name, "_Us_. The Marauders, _us_," He finished with a meaningful look. This confused James even more. They never called a meeting unless absolutely necessary. Most of what they talked about was just mentioned quietly wherever they were at the time.

"Now?" asked James with a furrowed brow. He really wanted to know what had affected the other boy's manner so drastically. Was it to do the Black family? James hated those people for how they had treated Sirius. He had only met the Blacks a handful of times, and was glad for it. The four friends had spent an evening there when cousins of Sirius's were visiting, and had left forever disgusted by the type of people some wizards became. James left his comfortable position, standing and examining his mate's face carefully.

Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew entered the Common Room to stroll up right behind Sirius. "Yes, James. Now," replied Remus, looking rather grave. The boy suffering from lycanthropy always had a drawn look about him, but on this evening it was more prominent than others. Though he was the same age as the others, younger even, by months, he looked as though he was a man several years his senior on some days. His shadowed eyes looked upon his friend wearily.

Beside Remus, Peter nodded, not meeting James's eyes. The black-haired Marauder's eyes narrowed slightly at this gesture. The others turned, and James knew that he must follow. As they walked up the stairs, James could not help but feel suspicious. By their attitude, it seemed he had been discussed in length outside his presence. Perhaps this had been building for days, weeks maybe. And he had a feeling that whatever topic awaited him was not one he would like.

As they reached the door to their dormitory, Sirius paused with his hand on the handle. He met eyes with his best friend, looking apologetic. Then, he turned and opened the door.

The four boys filed into the room, and James lingering by the door, if only to prolong this most ominous gathering. A chair was already in place at the centre of the dorm. As the apparent subject of this meeting, James inferred he was to sit in it. He took his place on the uncomfortable seat, looking at his mates, silently asking questions. It seemed no one wanted to be the one to answer. Finally, it was Sirius who spoke first.

"Marauder Meeting in session," he muttered, as was the formality. Sirius sighed and began to speak reluctantly. "Prongs, the lads and I have been talking. About you, and Evans."

Lily Evans, in their year and house, a prefect along with Remus, was the object of James's affection. He took it upon himself to spend the first few years of their time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry infuriating her to no end. Whether it was by tripping her as she walked to her desk, mocking the way she was so eager to answer questions, or teasing her about her brilliantly red hair, he was a constant source of annoyance. But a thirteen-year-old James soon grew love-struck, and began to pester her about something else: going to Hogsmeade with him.

After a first failed attempt of blurting it out after hexing her then friend, Severus Snape, James did not give up. In fact, he still asked her for the time of day, four years later. While it may have been a game of sorts in childhood, he'd grown to truly care for her, having genuine feelings. He remembered his realization at the end of the previous year, after she'd called him an 'Arrogant Toerag', thereby truly making him hate who he was at that moment. _Sodding hell, I'm in love with her, aren't I,_ he'd thought. It was a most horrific realization, but one he had taken to heart, and pursued her with renewed vigor.

And so, at the other Sixth Year's declaration, he grew even more wary. "What about me and Evans?" he asked carefully.

"We think it's about time you considered... moving on," Sirius responded in the same manner.

James was in disbelief. "You're joking," he said, shaking his head. "You _have_ to be joking. Because I know that you, _you three_, of all people, are not making me sit here to tell me I should be _deciding_ what to feel or not. You know as bloody well as I do that I've tried. Merlin, I caused a good amount of nice girls to hate me in fifth year because of _trying_. It's not exactly something thing I have a choice or not,"

Peter sighed, hesitantly speaking as well. "We know, Prongs, but-"

"No, that's the thing, I don't think you do!" interjected the Gryffindor, incensed. He felt ambushed. He stood, knocking the chair over as he did. "If you knew for a single second a fraction of how much I've tried, then you wouldn't even have thought of doing this. You think I _want_ to feel what I do? To constantly be thinking of someone who's disgusted by me? Someone who is so... _opposite_ of me, and everything I'm supposed to want? Believe me, if I had a fucking choice in who I wanted, it wouldn't be her."

Sirius slammed his fist against his bed post. "Then try harder! You're not the one who has to see your face every time she says no. For the first bit, it was alright. You would ask her to Hogsmeade to tease her, she'd get hacked off at you, you'd laugh and that would be it. But looking at you now, when you two get into it, there's rarely a time I've seen you as... destroyed, as she can make you. You can take shit better than almost anyone I know, but when it comes to her, it kills you, and we're sick of watching it!"

"Then look away, damn it!" responded James furiously. "Who are you to tell me that I haven't tried hard enough?"

"I'm supposed to be your best mate," Sirius countered with narrowed eyes.

James nodded, mirroring the other's expression. "Yeah, Padfoot, you're supposed to be. That's why it's ridiculous to be hearing this from you. I have been told what to do with my life ever since the day I was born. How to speak, how to stand, how to walk, how to _breathe_. I've had it drilled into my head that I am not responsible enough to make my own decisions. Well, I'm going to. What I do regarding Lily Evans is my decision."

"It's your _mistake_," cut in Sirius, balling his fists as if preparing to strike.

"Let it be my mistake then!" James shouted.

Remus took a less agressive approach. He spoke in a low voice. "Have you ever looked at yourself after one of your arguments with her? Not over something stupid, but when she truly tells you something that strikes a chord with you. The day after OWLs in fifth year, I know you had another argument after the one by the lake... You came back to the dorm in the middle of the night, looking absolutely exhausted. You don't know how little you talked that week. You blew it off at first, but whenever people weren't asking you direct questions, or you thought no one was paying attention... It was like someone had _died_. And while it may not be as bad as then, when something happens between you two, we can still see that."

James could not meet eyes with the werewolf, because it was much easier to be angry than to face the boy across from him, who'd dealt with too much in his life already. He tried to bring back the resentment he had previously held. "Contrary to the belief of you and my parents, I am not a child. I can handle some girl telling me she doesn't fancy me. I don't need to be looked after like a toddler, and I would appreciate you not treating me as such." he said coldly.

"For Merlin's sake, we're not treating you like a child!" Sirius burst out. He was angry, but no more so than the person to whom he spoke. "And we all know bloody well she's more than just 'some girl saying she doesn't fancy you' to you. Stop attacking him for trying to get you to see why she's not good for you anymore."

James laughed mirthlessly. "Attacking him?" he echoed. "Irony clearly isn't your strong suit, Sirius. And as for not her _not being good for me anymore_, when was she ever good for me? We're completely wrong for each other, and I should probably hate her. I want to. But I don't, and I can't stop feeling, and I'm absolutely _sick_ of the words _'You shouldn't.'_ Because I don't give a damn whether I shouldn't or not, because what I feel for her is not going to change, no matter how much I try."

Sirius snorted in disbelief. "You're seventeen, Prongs, you're hardly at the last stretch of your life. There's plenty of time to meet other people outside the walls of Hogwarts."

James pulled at his hair, wanting to tear it out in frustration. He wanted to punch something, preferably Sirius. It seemed at this point that they would not understand, no matter how much he repeated the same words, over and over. They would not believe in this, because they could not see why he cared. Why he could not let go of his stupid schoolboy crush. Why he felt so much for a girl, at seventeen. Why he could not look at another female and _feel_ anything, because who he was, it was already connected so much to who she was. Though these friends were as much brothers as those bonded by blood, they were, for once, blind when it came to his heart.

"Yes, Padfoot I am seventeen. And next year will be eighteen, then nineteen, then twenty. I will leave Hogwarts, and get a job, fight in this war and meet people outside of this... home, we've come to know. But this... whatever it is, is a part of me, and as much as you doubt it I think it will stay with me for a long while. If I can't get her to see who I am now, here, what chance to do I have out there, where she will meet others as well, and have the same opinion of me? As much as you think my feelings hurt me, her feelings can hurt me a thousand times more."

"What if she does meet someone, James?" Sirius asked calculatingly. "What if she meets another bloke and falls in love with him, hm? She very well might. She could date him, and marry him, have kids with him. Then what will have been the point of all this? If you keep going at it the way you two are, you'll just end up bloody angry at the world for the rest of your life, hung up over a bird who couldn't give a shit about you!"

James sneered. "Really, Sirius? Angry at the world? That's a bit rich coming from you, someone who seems hell-bent on hating anything that reminds him slightly of his family because he's afraid that everyone thinks he's going to turn out like them." He knew he was hitting below the belt, but at this point, so was Sirius and he was too enraged to care.

"You shut up." Sirius growled, moving forward. "You need to let her go, because at this point I think she'd rather fuck _Snivellus_ than even look twice at-"

James swung at him, but he dodged it. James grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall. "The point is _her_," he hissed, before pushing Sirius away. He stalked towards the door.

"The Code," he heard Peter mutter. "Number seven in the Code: No girl is ever allowed to come between the Marauders," he said quietly. It was not the time or place to bring up old traditions, but it was clearly the small boy's last resort to restore some peace.

James moved slowly to glance at Peter, and then asked him, "Do I look like I give a fuck about the Code right now? Meeting _adjourned._" James turned and left the dormitory without looking back. He heard a faint call of, 'Prongs!' but he ignored it.

He practically flew down the steps in his haste to get away. The Common Room was quite full, many students having returned from dinner, and the desire to get out of there overwhelmed James. He made no eye contact with anyone who sat amongst the crowd and climbed out of the portrait hole.

He went through corridor after corridor, until he found at last one that was empty of both people and classrooms. The anger that had flowed through him when talking to Sirius had not dissipated. He swung at the wall, seeing no other outlet for his rage. Pain seared through his hand, but at least it was a distraction from what he had just experienced. He turned his back to the wall and let himself slide against it until he was on the ground. He cradled the hand that was throbbing soundly with his other one.

James banged his head against the wall behind him, hoping to silence the sound of his friends' words echoing through his head. To silence the sound of his parents and their constant acts, pretending everything was fine when James could hear them screaming just seconds before. To silence Lily Evans and her much too easily uttered insults.

Just then, he heard the voice he wanted to hear least. "What are you doing, Potter?" asked a voice that was unmistakably, Lily Evans.

"Practicing Divination," James answered sardonically, repeating his actions over again. "I'm hoping if I beat my head against the wall enough, I'll develop The Sight."

She did not laugh. He did not expect her to. Though he wouldn't make eye contact, he assumed by the lack of footsteps that she wasn't leaving. "Are you- are you _bleeding_?" she questioned incredulously. She crouched down by the spot where he sat.

James paused at her question. He watched blood drip down his knuckles, presumably because of his hit to the wall. He saw several drops hit the floor, vaguely fascinated. He laughed hollowly. "I suppose I am," he replied, making no movement to do anything about the fact.

"What the hell happened to you? It looks broken. Really Potter, throwing punches isn't the way to deal with problems." Lily reprimanded sharply. She reached out to examine his hand. Even her light touch caused the already twinging appendage to throb anew. Her fingers had blood on them as they continued to prod away.

He looked at her then. Seeing her at that moment, after all that had gone on between him and his friends, he swore he hated her. Oh, he still loved her, undeniably so, but right then he hated her just as much. "Because you're such an expert on conflict resolution," James said with contempt. He jerked his hand out her reach, his hand stinging more as he did so.

"Don't take whatever fight you had out on me, Potter. I've got nothing to do with it." she said irritably. "You've gone and broken it. You ought to to see Madame Pomfrey."

James disregarded her last words. He'd had much worse from full moons; he knew how to heal broken bones by now. What really caused his temper to flare was her other statement. She thought she had nothing to do with it? It was because of her, this stupid girl with so much power over him, that the wall he had broken his hand on was almost his dorm-mate's face. He looked at her scathingly. "I am not in the mood to deal with you, Evans."

Lily drew her wand. Momentarily he thought she planned to hex him, and in reaction drew his with his left hand, due his right's incapacitation. She did not, and instead set to work about healing his hand. Evidently, she thought he was too livid to heed her advice. Her act did not improve her demeanour, or mean she felt any sympathy towards him however, because she continued to argue with him either way. "Not in the mood to _deal_ with me? Bit hypocritical to say that to me when you yourself never accept it from others,"

"Piss off," he snarled, once again moving his hand out her reach. As she spoke, she was performing a spell to numb his hand, and so as he changed his position, her spell went off course and hit his leg. He lost all feeling in his limb. "What's wrong with my leg?" demanded James.

"Now look what you've done!" Lily said.

James was in disbelief. "What I've done? You're the one who was healing me without asking, and then sent a spell at my leg!" Wand stowed away, he prodded his leg, but felt nothing.

"Oh, Potter, you're right as always. I am the foulest person for trying to heal someone's broken hand. They should have separate cells in Azkaban for people like me," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She reversed the spell, and grabbed his still bleeding hand. "How did you manage to break it this badly anyway?" she inquired disinterestedly as she conjured a rag to wipe off the blood.

"I punched a Slytherin in the noggin. Turns out their skulls really are that thick." James replied smoothly. Having learned his lesson about moving his hand too quickly, he waited until she was done cleaning it to pull away from her. The wounds had not closed, and so he still bled, but he paid it no heed. He stood. "I appreciate the... help, but I'm fine, Evans. I can manage from here."

She stood and folded her arms. "Why don't I believe that?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

"No, really, it's as if you're swinging at a brick wall,"

Lily pursed her lips, not amused. "Not that, Potter. Though come to mention it, I doubt the credibility of that as well. What I mean is, that you're not fine. You're clearly injured, it's your wand arm, and something tells me that you're not going to head to the Hospital Wing after leaving. As lovely as a colour as the floor will be after you bleed out in the corridor, I won't be the one who bears witness to it."

James rolled his eyes. "It barely hurts," he lied. _Marauders don't display pain,_ thought James, gritting his teeth At her doubtful look, he continued. "Nice that you're concerned for the cleanliness of our halls, but it's alright. I can handle healing cuts and broken bones. I've had much worse; this is hardly a scratch on the whole." He started to turn his back to her.

"Liar." the redhead scoffed, stepping in front of him. "You wince every time you move, Potter. Put your pride aside and let me heal you!" Lily insisted, grabbing his hand again.

James hissed as pain shot through him. She looked apologetic, though no words of the sort left her mouth. He yanked his hand out of her reach, ignoring the pain and grabbed her shoulder with his good hand. "This isn't about pride, Evans, this is about getting away from you before I do something I regret. I wasn't joking earlier, I am not in the mood for this so I'd appreciate you leaving me the hell alone." James whispered harshly in her face. He was completely on edge and held on to her shoulder so tightly he must have been hurting her.

If it did indeed hurt, she did not show it. Lily held her ground as she stared him straight in the eyes. "You are the most prideful person I know," she began slowly, gaze not wavering. "So forgive me if I think the fact that you're not taking your yet to be explained broken hand to a Healer might be a matter of your being ashamed you lost a fight. I am _not_ a part of whatever situation you got yourself into, and I refuse to stand here why you take it out on me. Let me go,"

James loosened his grip, but did not remove it from her. "Awfully presumptuous tonight, aren't you, Evans?"

Her green eyes narrowed. "Meaning?" she inquired.

James moved closer and spoke lowly. His face was quite close to hers, it was a feat that she managed not to cross her eyes at the distance. "You keep telling me I lost a fight, and that you had nothing to do with it. Who's to say you didn't, hm? Perhaps your name was mentioned, and perhaps there wasn't any winner to whatever row I got in. Maybe my broken hand has nothing to do with my fight, and came from separate events altogether. Presumptuous," he repeated.

Lily's face was flushed, most likely from anger. "Doubtful," she began, adjusting her position as to put more distance between them. He held back a smirk at this. "It's possible I am presumptuous, but I'm not stupid. You were part of some sort of altercation, anyone can tell that by your face alone. Whether or not I had anything to do with it, I cannot control my _name_ being brought up, and just because I am mentioned does not mean I am the cause. As for your broken hand, I couldn't care less, unless I'll soon have a dead body to explain to Dumbledore." She shrugged unaffectedly, though this contrasted greatly with her previous mannerisms.

"Evans," he whispered with a quiet but unkind laugh, "What would you say if I told you that you have everything to do with it? That you might be the, root of the problem, as they say?" James knew he was leading her down a dangerous path of conversation, but he could not stop himself from continuing. He privately acknowledged he never seemed to have any control of his actions around her.

"How so?" she asked with a raised brow.

He bent so he was speaking into her ear. "If it wasn't for you..." he started venomously, and then paused. He tried to calm his tone of voice, breathing for a moment. "If it wasn't for you, things would be different. I would be able to look at other girls and have genuine feelings for them. I would be able to date someone, and just enjoy _being_ with them. I wouldn't get in a row and have to defend my irrational decision of whom to care for, while trying to get it through their skulls that it's not actually my _choice_. I wouldn't punch a bleeding wall while wishing it was my best mate's face, I wouldn't hate Severus Snape half as much as I do, and most of all I would be _able_ to hate _you_," James finished, pulling back slightly.

"That is completely unfair," Lily argued, shaking her head. She made sure she could look at him, but as she did, her face held no anger. "I don't have a choice in this, and I can't be blamed for the consequences. There are times when I thought I hated you. After you'd bullied Severus, or asked me out, or pulled some idiotic stunt. But I can't, because while the latter still goes on... I know you're changing. And I can't blame you for who you _were_, just as you can't blame me for being who I am. I apologize for the trouble any feelings you have might have caused you, but it is not my fault."

James softened, the anger subsiding. He let go of her and sighed, ruffling his hair. "I'm aware that it's not your fault. I just... want people, including you, to be aware that it's not mine either,"

Lily looked him over for a minute, debating something or the other. Finally, she seemed to settle on a decision. "How would you feel... about becoming friends? Not dating, mind you, but would you be alright with being mates with me? I understand if you don't, I just think it would be good... for you and me, if we were to get along somewhat. You don't have to,"

James froze where he stood. They'd had their civil moments, days in which they did not scream and fight with each other. The two shared a circle of friends for the most part, as well as had similar schedules, it was impossible not to interact outside of their altercations. They got on quite decently for who they were on those occasions. But neither attempted to strike up any sort of friendship. He seriously considered this offer of hers. James wondered whether he would be able to handle it, being with her, but not _being with her_. After thinking about what had gone on, he nodded, because being her mate was so much better than being nothing to her. "I want to," he said breaking the silence that had fallen.

She relaxed, the tension which plagued her during her question leaving her. "Good." she said. Then she turned her attention to his injury. "As your new mate, I demand you take yourself to the hospital wing to get that hand healed. Honestly, punching a wall!"

He let out a small but genuine chuckle. "I meant what I said earlier. I can heal it myself, I swear, I've had worse." With his words, he pulled out his wand, and began to heal his throbbing knuckles. Admittedly, it stung as the bones snapped back into place, but he'd had times when Remus -unknowingly of course- had completely shattered bones and tore ligaments and this feeling wasn't nearly as bad. Though these thoughts comforted him, he could not hold back a grimace and laboured breathing as the pain shot through him.

Lily watched his actions. After the process was completed, she prodded his hand. "You heal very well," she commented with a furrowed brow.

"Thanks. Quidditch, you know," he said, though they were both aware that any injuries on the Quidditch pitch were almost always taken straight to the matron. He cleared his throat, looking at his watch. "We should be heading back to Gryffindor Tower, curfew is soon. Now, I know you're a right troublemaker, Evans, but I would rather not associate myself with nefarious behaviour." claimed James in a haughty tone.

Lily laughed, and looked surprised at herself for doing so. "I'll attempt to keep my nefarious attitude to myself, Potter."

And the two walked to their tower, engrossed in their own thoughts. As they entered the Common Room, James began to ask her questions. About her life, her family, her friends, anything that came to mind. She in turn did the same. They received odd looks from those lingering in the area, but continued to shoot inquires at each other. In the early hours of the morning, the two fell asleep on the warm sofa James had found himself sitting in earlier the very evening.

When he awoke, he found many faces surrounding them. Among those people, were Sirius, Remus and Peter. "You're on trial tomorrow, you know," the former said in a low voice, with a slight grin.

"Bugger," replied James, but he did not take his eyes off the female next to him. She stirred and looked at him with bleary eyes, and though the issues when it came to this girl -this woman- were far from over, he could not bring himself to regret his decisions.

He wasn't the first to break the code, nor would he be the last.


	2. Because He Hated Them

**The Code Part 2 - Sirius**

_9. A Marauder must never use any of his exceptional talents, charms, and other such things to critically harm another being. _

He was the first, but he regretted it every day.

A sixteen-year-old Sirius Black was strolling along the corridor, wondering why his parents ever had children if they didn't like them so much. They had received another letter about Sirius' 'behaviour problems', as was the school code when one got more than ten detentions in a month, and so _he _had received another letter from them. For a boy in a normal family, this situation would not seem so bad. But the Blacks were not normal. They were purists, they were arrogant, prejudiced, cowardly, unfair and everything Sirius never wanted to be, but was raised to be a part of. The true nature of who he was had shown when he was sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin, the house in which the rest his family had always been. Walburga and Orion Black had been furious at this, and had deemed it suitable punishment to treat their eldest son like scum at every opportunity. The boy needed to blow off steam, and quick, otherwise his friends would be the ones who would have to suffer his awful mood for the rest of the day.

He went around a corner and almost whacked straight back into the Severus (more commonly known among Sirius' friends as Snivellus) Snape. "Watch where you're going, Black." he sneered unpleasantly.

The Marauders --or specifically, James and Sirius-- had an eternal feud with Snape. No one could say how exactly it started, but both sides hated each other with a passion. James and Sirius had admittedly picked on him quite often when they were in the lower years, but just as many times Snape was the first one to rile them up. This, it appeared, was one of those times. Snape gave Sirius a calculating look. "You seem a bit tense, Black. Is it because you and your posse are going to sneak off again tonight? The full moon got you all bothered, hm?" Snape inferred.

Remus Lupin, a Marauder and a close friend of Sirius, was a werewolf. This fact had been discovered by the other Marauders in second year. Remus was hesitant to mention it because he was so used to people running in fear from his condition that he believed his friends might do the same. Sirius, James and Peter had done the complete opposite when they forced it out of their mate that he suffered from lycanthropy. After careful library research (only because of Remus' insistence that if they wanted to help him, an answer could be found in the _library _of all places) they decided that the best thing they could do for their friend was to become Animagi and spend the full moons with him in their animal forms. They, at the beginning of this year, had finally achieved this feat. Unfortunately, Snape was a suspicious slimy git and he often tried to find out what they did one night once a month, disappearing from sight (under James' invisibility cloak, not that anyone knew about that). Snape had come up with the correct answer, though none of the four had ever confirmed it, fearing what might be done to their friend if Snape were to tell everyone.

But tonight, Sirius was angry. Angry at his parents for hating who he was, and angry at Snape for everything that was wrong in his life. He felt that Snape deserved to find out what they did on full moons _the hard way_. "You know what, _Snivellus_? If you want to know what we do on full moons so badly, then come to the Whomping Willow after sunset tonight," Sirius said, glaring fiercely at his enemy. It was just hours until the sun would set and Madame Pomfrey would lead Remus down to the secret passage.

Snape laughed coldly. "Do you think I'm stupid, Black? That tree will go on a rage at any student who comes near it!" This was true enough. The tree was called the 'Whomping' Willow for a reason. It swung around like crazy at any person within whacking distance of it.

Sirius shook his head, smirking his best superior look. "Not if you prod the knot in the trunk with a long stick. It opens a passage. Looking forward to seeing you, Snivellus," he said sarcastically, mock-saluting to the Slytherin before continuing to brush past him as if nothing had occurred. If Sirius had turned around, he would have seen a look of silent contemplation cross Snape's face. Sirius would've been glad if he had. He thought that Snape sure needed a good scaring, maybe then he wouldn't be so rude to Remus.

He continued on his way to the Gryffindor Common Room. Upon reaching the portrait, he muttered gruffly, "Sugar Quills," to the Fat Lady, who smiled at him indulgently and swung open with a giggle. She always had a bit of crush on the Marauders. She often would forgive them more easily for waking her up in the night than another pair of students. Sirius rolled his eyes, as he shut the door. The school may have treated them with respect --save for some professors who didn't appreciate their constant pranks-- but within his own 'home' he didn't matter. He flexed his fingers; they were itching to hit something.

The people in the Common Room stared at him curiously, though he paid them no heed and walked (or a better word, stomped) up to his dormitory. He opened the door and entered, only to see a worried-looking James sitting down on one of the beds. Sirius raised an eyebrow in question. "It's Moony," said James in a hushed voice.

Sirius' brows now pulled together in worry. "What happened?" he asked, tense. With the full moon tonight, Remus was sure to be in a right state, but some nights it was worse than others. From the look on James' face, Sirius gathered that this was another one of _those_ nights. It only made him more nervous that his friend wouldn't meet his eyes.

After a moment, James sighed and looked at Sirius. "He can barely move, and when I even suggest we bring him to the hospital wing early, he bites my freaking head off," He shook his head, frustrated. "He doesn't know his limits. He's in the bathroom; he nearly collapsed trying to get there. The git is trying to go about his day normally when he's fit to pass out." James glared in the direction of the bathroom and seconds later, Remus staggered out.

Remus gave James a cold look. "You know, amazingly Prongs, these bathrooms are not sound-proof and I can indeed hear every word you're saying while I'm in there." he muttered furiously, stumbling over to his bed and grabbing onto the sheets, because he was slipping off the edge. His usually pale knuckles were a ghostly white as he gripped his bed.

"Good," hissed James with still narrowed eyes. "You needed to hear that, Moony. You're going to kill yourself with all the shit you're doing before the full moon. You know you're doing too much, but you refuse to listen to me because you have something to prove to your damn idiotic self." Sirius knew that James knew he was being harsh, but it was only because he was protective of his mates. He was willing to do whatever it took save them from everyone, including themselves.

"Shut up, Prongs." snapped Remus. "Like you know shit about what I can handle." His voice would've held more conviction had he not sounded so exhausted. His voice was low and breathless as he tried to murmur rude things to his friend.

Sirius sighed, deciding it was time to get involved. "Moony, you know that James is concerned for you so don't pretend for a minute he's trying to limit or undermine your ability to handle things." he said, giving his weak friend a tired look. Next he turned to James, who seemed to expect that his reprimand would come next. Sirius did not disappoint. "Prongs, I know you're upset, but back off for a while, Moony needs his space right now and if he's going to come to his senses it will be his decision."

Both boys grumbled in response, but neither one protested. Sirius sat down on his own bed, running a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up from James. All three Gryffindors turned their heads towards the door when it creaked slightly, alerting them of another presence. Sirius thought for a moment that it was an eavesdropper, but he relaxed when he saw the mousy-haired head of Peter Pettigrew poke through the door.

"Hey," said Peter quietly, instantly aware of their tense positions. His gaze drifted over all of them, lingering the longest on Remus, which annoyed Remus to no end. But the agitated werewolf did not snap at the smallest member of their group, for now he seemed to have a better hold of his temper.

Greetings were mumbled in response, but none chose to restart their previous conversation. Wanting to interrupt the awkwardness Peter mentioned a prank he had recently pulled on the Slytherins. Sirius grinned, joining in willingly to this fun topic. The other two Marauders were noticeably silent, but offered smiles and occasional chuckles at the right times, which indicated to Sirius that though they were okay, they still weren't on the best terms right now.

Sirius shoved his hands into his pockets, another habit he shared with his friends. When he did, his hand touched the crumpled parchment that had blackened his mood earlier that day. He pulled it out, intending to burn it or chuck it or something of the sort, when it caught Peter's eye. "What's that, Padfoot?" he asked curiously.

Sirius' thoughts immediately jumped to his parents and he scowled unintentionally. "Nothing," he said, clenching his fist and crumpling the paper even farther. He didn't want to be reminded of his family. He had just gotten back into a good mood thanks to the Marauders, and he wasn't in a hurry to ruin it. James chose not say anything, but gave the shaggy-haired Marauder a look that said he saw right through him.

Remus also noticed Sirius' evasiveness and began to ask, "Are you--" His voice was breathless and quiet, so he cleared his throat and tried again. "Are you sure, mate?" Though it wasn't much louder, his voice at least sounded relatively normal. Sirius wanted to shake his head in exasperation and his stubborn friend. He knew James was right, Remus was pushing himself too hard in some half-arsed attempt to prove himself stronger than his condition.

"I'm sure," Sirius responded, immediately, ready to take any out from this topic he was offered. He offered the parchment a stony glance before shoving it in his pocket; he would burn it later. "So, for the next prank, I was thinking we could hex the bodies of the Slythergits red and gold... maybe even tattoo lions, on the side of their heads, hm?" Sirius falsely smiled at his friends, but it seemed to fool both Remus and Peter. Unfortunately, James was still sitting there, all but a statue as he aimed a face at his friend that said 'We'll talk about this later'. But when the others looked at him, he grinned and Sirius could tell that the grin had about as much sincerity as Sirius' did.

"We could enchant the lions to roar every few minutes," James suggested, speaking for once after quite a while.

The boys talked for ages, discussing their now very detailed plan against the Slytherins. Eventually, the looming tension between the sandy-haired Marauder and the raven-headed leader wore off, though the weariness and weakness of the former did not. Sirius could see just how much it took from James to hold his tongue as Remus struggled to stay upright, let alone participate in the conversation. But he did, because that was Remus needed. Every time Sirius' eyes passed over his own pocket, he wondered just how much of this conversation was for the benefit of removing tension.

Soon enough, it was lunch time. Sirius knew that it was time to eat, but didn't want to be the one to mention it. This was because having to go to the Great Hall would cause a whole new batch of problems. Being some of the most (if not _the_ most) popular guys in school, they attracted a lot of attention wherever they went. Remus needed to eat now, because he would miss dinner, but if he was seen then many students --particularly the females-- would make inquiries to his health and they couldn't tell the truth about what was hurting him. And also, Remus would never consent to being brought his meal, and James would never consent to letting Remus leave the room.

Peter was the first one to point out the time. "Isn't it lunchtime now?" he asked, looking at his watch.

Remus shakily rose, and in turn so did James though more fluidly than his friend. They each knew the purpose of the other standing, and when they met eyes, it was a challenge. It was spoken aloud when James looked at the werewolf and said one word. "No," James said firmly.

Remus raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest. "No _what_, Prongs?" he said, though he knew perfectly well what James wanted him to do. It was clear that he wanted him to say the words because he wanted to yell at him, and this would, in his eyes, give him the right to do that.

Sirius got up and tried to pull his best friend's attention away from the werewolf. It worked for a moment, because the gaze of the stag Animagus flickered briefly to Sirius' face. In that moment, Sirius desperately tried to prevent the fight that would follow the sentence that hung in the air above their heads. He silently pleaded for James not to say it, not to utter the words that would push their friend over the edge. Remus was obviously itching for a fight, be it verbal or physical, but either one would put a heavy strain on him.

"No, I'm not hungry." James responded, though everyone in the room knew that wasn't what he wanted to say. "You guys go on ahead, I'll hang back here," he muttered as he sat back down on his bed. Sirius shot him an appreciative look as he, Peter and Remus all headed towards the door.

"I'll bring you something back in case you change your mind." said Sirius, trying to convey his gratitude for James being the bigger person in this situation. James gave him a small smile and mouthed, _You're welcome_. Then, _We're still going to talk_.

Sirius shot him an unpleasant look, but nodded nonetheless. He and the others headed down to the Great Hall for lunch, keeping their pace slow so Remus would have less trouble keeping up. Of course, the aforementioned boy increased his own pace, as if to deny their attempts to keep him from exhausting himself. Sirius rolled his eyes when Remus wasn't looking. For the usually most reasonable Marauder, he was being rather ridiculous. The full moon turned him into a very ill-tempered and obstinate person.

They entered the Great Hall, and many pairs of eyes turned to them. Remus ignored them completely, heading straight for their regular spots, Peter gave several girls smiles (to which the females who preferred him would giggle) and Sirius just nodded politely in acknowledgment to a younger girl he knew was interested in him; she nearly fainted in shock. He didn't look at anyone after that. Though Sirius was used to the attention, it annoyed him on days like this.

Sirius loaded his meal onto his plate, glancing at Remus, who was looking pale as ever as he grimaced at the meat he had put on his plate. Around this time of the month, he ate mostly meat, as rare as it came. He didn't want to, but it was what nourished him most, as well as what the darker part of him craved. That was probably why he was scowling as he stabbed his fork into this meal. Sirius felt bad for his friend, but was grateful that a small amount of colour returned to Remus' cheeks as he ate.

Sirius ate his meal in relative silence, and as soon as he was done he proceeded to get food for James. He put a good amount of food on a plate and then decided to also find James some Treacle Tart. It was his favourite, and Sirius thought it might convince him into not talking about the letter. It was a pathetic hope, but a hope nonetheless. Next to him, Peter gave him a knowing look. "Trying to butter him up with Treacle Tart, eh?" he asked, smirking.

"You know me oh too well, mate, oh too well." Sirius replied, rising now that James' plate and his stomach were both full. "Are you coming up with me, or are you going to stay with M...." he trailed off at the glare he received from Remus. Inwardly, Sirius cursed the fact that werewolves had uncannily good hearing.

Remus shot his friend the look of death. "I don't need to be _babysat_. I can take care of _myself_," he said harshly, stabbing at his food once more.

"I know you don't need to be babysat! I was just asking Wormtail what he was doing now that he was done! Calm down why don't you, you're just bitching at me because you're pissed at Prongs for 'babying' you when all he was doing was being a good mate! I know you're dealing with your _furry little problem_ but that doesn't give you the right to act like an arse!" Sirius whispered angrily, leaning over so the only person with a chance of eavesdropping was Peter.

"Piss off, Sirius." Remus said with narrowed eyes.

"Gladly." Sirius muttered, leaning back. And with that, he left, gaining many a stare from the students around them. The tempers of the Marauders were as legendary as their friendship, but never did they bring up arguments between any of the four together in public for other people to see. The odd behaviour from these boys was attracting much too much watchfulness.

Taking advantage of some useful secret passageways, Sirius was soon back in the boy's dormitory, facing a tired-looking James Potter. He held out the food to his best friend, who took the plate gratefully. "Thanks mate." he said quietly, beginning to start on his meal.

"Wait, there's one more thing," Sirius said, revealing the dessert he had been hiding behind his back.

At the sight of this, James broke out into an honest grin. "Awesome. Treacle Tart's my favourite!" he said excitedly, abandoning the potatoes he'd been eating and taking the food from Sirius' hand. With a pace only a teenage boy could manage, he gobbled down the delicious treat happily. But after finishing, he sobered up again. "So, how was lunch with our dear Moony?" asked James, raising an eyebrow with an expression Sirius couldn't quite place.

Sirius sighed. "I sort of told him off. I mean, I know these times are hard for him to deal with, but I can't just let him act like that! Yeah, I know, I'm a bit hypocritical, but he was driving me bonkers, the lad was," he defended poorly, unable to meet James' eyes.

"It's understandable, Padfoot." James said, leaning back against his bedpost. "I don't think I've ever seen him this bad. Even the first full moon he was going to face with us, he didn't push himself this hard. I don't want to make him feel bad, it's just hard to deal with him when he won't listen to reason. It's scary when it seems like he doesn't care whether he lives or dies, as long as he's proved something...." He shook his head.

Once again, the dormitory door opened, and this time it was both Remus and Peter who entered. Sirius immediately tensed, bracing himself for the impact of what had occurred in the Great Hall. It was clear everyone was expecting an outburst from their weakened friend, but he said nothing. Remus shoved his hands into his pockets, and drew from them two bars of chocolate. He threw one each to James and Sirius, muttering gruffly, "They had some extra chocolate,"

Sirius and James caught each other's eyes, and simultaneously cracked smiles. They knew Remus must have realized he was taking his attitude a bit too far. Of course, Remus would never tell them aloud, but they knew all the same from his behaviour. Though they saw no signs of Remus willing to back down from pushing himself to his limits, Sirius couldn't help but feel slightly hopeful that the sandy-haired werewolf would let up and admit he was wrong on that second count.

The afternoon passed awkwardly, with Remus still irritable and James still worried, but it wasn't their worst day they'd faced together. Quicker than they'd realized, it was time for Remus to head down to the Whomping Willow with Madame Pomfrey. Under James' invisibility cloak, they followed the matron and their mate to one of the entrances of the school. They waited until Madame Pomfrey was back at the school and the moon was beginning to rise to leave their spot.

They trudged slowly, Peter up at the front and James and Sirius quite a bit behind him. "I haven't forgotten about that parchment you know," James said to Sirius as they walked.

Sirius frowned as the lump of paper he had forgotten about in his pocket suddenly came a part of their conversation. He sighed. "I didn't really think you would. I was hoping the Treacle Tart would stall you for a bit though,"

James smiled slightly. "It did, but now it's digested and you know there's nothing you can use to distract me. What was it? I saw that look; it was about your family, wasn't it?" James's tone was not accusatory or sympathetic, simply matter-of-fact. When James received no objections, he frowned. Sirius knew how much it hurt James that he couldn't save his friends from the things they had to deal with. "Why are they writing?" Now, James seemed a bit angry, as he always did when people hurt the other Marauders.

"You know how we got two weeks of detention for the fight we got into with those sixth year Slytherins?" Sirius asked him. This had been the reason McGonagall had had to write home, the reason why his parents decided they needed to remind him how much he was unwanted in their home. He resisted the urge to spit at the ground; he'd rather be boiled alive than be wanted in the Black household, with their purist ideals and constant abuse.

James nodded. "How could I forget? My mum sent me a Howler, remember? She was bloody pissed off that she'd gotten another letter home... Oh," said James, finally making the connection. "They must've sent a letter home for you too, and your parents..." He left his sentence unfinished, but it was understood nonetheless. Sirius nodded at him. "Damn, are you alright?"

"I dunno," murmured Sirius with a shrug. "I mean sure it bugs me, but I sort of blew off some steam at Snivellus when I ran into him. I told him he should go to the Whomping Willow tonight and how to get into the passageway, you know, to scare him, because he was bugging me about Moony..."

James stopped in his tracks. "You _what?_" he questioned, his voice deadly quiet.

Sirius's eyes trailed to the moon, which would soon be in the line of vision through the window of the Shrieking Shack when they got there. They weren't at the Willow yet, but they were close. "Told him to go to the Whomping Willow tonight..." repeated Sirius, half of him realizing what he'd done and the other half wanting to deny he'd had anything to do with it.

In that moment, James looked angrier than Sirius had ever seen him. No, it was worse than anger, he was enraged, _murderous_. "DO YOU REALIZE WHAT COULD HAPPEN?" yelled James in Sirius's face. "REMUS COULD KILL HIM, YOU FUCKING IDIOT! SNAPE COULD _DIE _BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" James began to run towards the Willow, bellowing as he went, "WORMTAIL, OPEN THE PASSAGE."

Peter, who seemed to only now be realizing something was going on, responded with a blank look at first. James yelled once more, "WORMTAIL, OPEN THE PASSAGE! _NOW!_" Peter immediately transformed into his rat Animagus form and ran up the tree to prod the knot in the truck. At the base, a passageway opened up and the tree was immobilized.

* * *

James ran down the passageway as fast as his legs could carry him, knowing he couldn't turn into his Animagus form with Snape somewhere in the tunnel. Once he neared the end of it, he saw Snape there. "Snape! Get out of the passageway, now!" he called out as loud as he could.

Severus Snape turned to him with a sneering expression on his face. "Why should I, Potter? You afraid I'll finally have proof about your friend's _condition_?" he said, narrowing his eyes in the dark.

James let out a frustrated cry while grabbing Snape and trying to physically drag him away. "Snape, this isn't about anyone's condition, this is a matter of you _surviving,_ do you understand me?! I'm trying to keep you from dying, now leave the passageway!" Snape struggled with him as he tried to pull him back from the entrance to the Shrieking Shack. They both froze though, when the door was knocked over. Plainly visible was Moony, a fully-transformed werewolf whose eyes contained nothing but bloodlust.

Moony charged at them, and James knew he had about a second to do what he needed to. He quickly stunned Snape and transformed into a stag, throwing the unconscious Slytherin onto his back. He ran extremely fast, but Moony was gaining on them. Moony bit down on James's left leg, crippling him slightly though he continued to run. The bite wouldn't turn him into a werewolf because he was in his Animagus form, but it still lowered his speed substantially. Moony was very close to lunging at Snape when a great black dog ran at the werewolf and caused him to tumble back down the passage.

James knew this was his only chance. Though his leg felt like it was on fire, he ran with all his might and finally got out of the tunnel. He saw Peter, who was in his human form now, and also transformed back into his regular self. James limped over to Peter, carrying Snape with him. "Watch him until sunrise," he grunted, heaving the unconscious boy at his friend.

He ran back to the Whomping Willow, smoothly flowing into his stag form as he ran. James realized that his leg was probably broken, and that running would not do anything to help that fact, but he had to help Remus out. It took both the dog _and_ the stag to keep a fully-transformed werewolf in check, and as enraged as he was at Sirius, he couldn't allow Remus to suffer on account of what someone else did. It was with this though in mind that he arrived once again at the Shrieking Shack.

Sirius was being thrown against the wall repetitively by Moony, but still the dog Animagus would not let him any closer to the door. James ran at Moony, tackling him as to get him off of Sirius. Sirius looked thankfully at him, but James turned away, focusing on Moony. He didn't feel like looking at his best friend after what Sirius had done. Moony rushed at Sirius once more and James had to tackle him again. The werewolf let out a chilling howl into the night.

* * *

_July 17th, 1995._

Twenty years later, Sirius was once again met with the reminder of what he'd done that night, because facing him in the hallway was none other than Severus Snape. "How's the cleaning going along, Black? You know how _important_ and _useful_ your part is to the Order. However would they get along without you?" he drawled.

Sirius moved towards him, glaring fiercely. "I put up with you because Dumbledore wants me to, but I believe you've turned good as much as I believe my mother was a lovely, mild-mannered woman. You're nothing but Death Eater scum," he spat, letting the hatred pour into his voice.

"Out of the two of us, which do you think is more likely to turn a murderer, Black? You've already attemped to kill me once. Who's to say you wouldn't do the same to someone else?" hissed Snape visciously, smirking at the look his words brought to Sirius's face. "You, Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew were all arrogant, foolish killers, and you won't ever change,"

Sirius's hand went to his pocket and he gripped his wand until his hand was sore. He moved closer to Snape, leaning forward so he was right in his face. "I've taken a lot of shit from you in the past year, but don't you ever, _ever_ insult James's memory or maybe I will become a murderer, you understand me?" he threatened, breathing heavily in terrible attempt to calm himself. "And don't ever blame Remus for what I've done. Yeah, I was a moron as a kid, but Remus had no control over what he was doing and don't you think otherwise for a second, _Snivellus_."

Over Snape's shoulder, Sirius saw Remus standing his shoulder, and the look of disappointment in Remus's eyes was worse than any words that Snape could utter. That day had traumatized the werewolf, causing him to be aware of just how dangerous he was. Remus's reaction to that night was imprinted in Sirius's mind: _Dense though it may seem, until that moment I was under the impression that somehow, even though I'm a werewolf, I could control the smallest amount of my mind while transformed. But I realize now, all is lost to the monster in me when the moon is full, and that shall never go away._

He was the first, but he regretted every day.


	3. Because He Was Broken

**The Code Part 3 - Remus**

_3. One Marauder must not hurt another about something he cannot control. _

He was broken, but he knew better.

Remus Lupin, sixth-year prefect, sat at the Gryffindor table at breakfast on a Sunday morning in September, doing a crossword in the paper (he wasn't prepared to stare at horrifying headlines and obituaries just yet this day) and chatting amiably with his three close friends. The ceiling which reflected the sky showed that outside, the day was beautiful out. There was just the perfect amount of sun. Add this to the fact that the full moon was many weeks away, he'd finished all his homework and generally, the hall seemed in a pleasant mood, all in all Remus thought the day was starting off smashingly.

Then, the mail came.

Dozens of owls swooped down from all directions into the hall. Remus's owl, a barn owl as it happened, soared through the room to place his letter in front of him. Absorbed in his crossword, Remus barely paid attention to this. James Potter, to his right, must have been giving the letter some attention, because he swore softly under his breath. Remus looked up.

The letter in front of him beared a black seal. And just like that, his quill came clattering to the floor.

"I'm sorry," muttered the fourth-year girl to his left, having noticed as well. Her eyes held pity.

Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew had been spending their breakfast training their food to attack each other. This had occupied the majority of their attention that morning, though they were drawing near the end of the battle, as Peter's waffles were clearly almost destroyed. They had not looked up to see what was distressing their friend, but when the girl spoke, they both looked over in curiosity and mild concern.

Remus was not an idiot. He knew what this letter meant. He had seen it happen to so many other students before him. In fact, he could vaguely hear quiet sobbing from Ravenclaw table coming from a person who'd obviously received a letter just as heartbreaking. He knew what it meant, but he didn't want to believe it. He reached a scarred, trembling hand out to open it. He felt sick to his stomach as he saw the Ministry's return address and began to read.

_Dear Mr. Lupin,_

_There was an attack last night, in your town of Aberfeldy. We regret to inform you that there were many casualities, including those of John and Samantha Lupin. _

_Your mother, being a Muggle, could not raise a wand to defend herself, and therefore suffered many wounds, such as what appears to be the Cruciatus curse. She died instantaneously when the Avada Kedavra was cast._

_Your father fought against those he could. He dueled with four different extreme political activists. He was very outnumbered though, and died from blood loss from a chest wound he obtained in the battle. We have Aurors investigating the event, but as these activists were masked and the witnesses we have are not in a state to describe them, we have no leads as of yet._

_Their will shall be read as soon as possible. There were many other losses on this night, and we may not have the resources to procure it efficiently soon. We apologize if there is a delay. We thank you in advance for your patience._

_My greatest condolences for your most terrible loss. May they rest in peace._

_Demetria Savage,_

_Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

If he had been standing up, his knees would have buckled. He could not breathe, he could not speak, he could not feel anything but an ache that seemed to be stemming from around the middle of his chest. If he could not see the blurry images of the people around him, he would have sworn he was dead or on his way there. Remus felt a hand clasp his shoulder, but he could not bring himself to tear his eyes away from the parchment that had just brought his world tumbling down.

Sirius picked up the envelope. His eyes drifted to the seal, and then he looked back up at the werewolf sitting across from him. "Who?" he muttered quietly, and there was no question as to what he was asking about.

Remus tried to open his mouth to form words, but his brain would not allow it. His mouth remained shut. His white fists were clenched around the letter.

"We have to get him out of here," whispered James to the others.

Sirius and Peter nodded and rose from their spots. Remus heard the command, but could not make his legs function properly. James, as it appeared, owned the hand that was grasping Remus's shoulder, as he used to gently pull the boy up from his spot, and usher him out of the hall. If he could summon any emotions, Remus might have been grateful his friend was holding onto him, or he might have fallen to the floor the moment he rose.

Though these gestures were done quietly, and the catatonic male was shadowed from view by his three mates, eyes followed them as they walked. There were several bemused faces among those who had not recieved such letters themselves, and many people were staring at the four openly, trying to decipher what had caused the drastic change in mood. None of their number had the patience to put up with it on this day, and so they walked at a brisker pace.

Remus heard Sirius murmur to James, "D'you think he can make it up the stairs to Gryffindor tower?"

The response from James was inaudible to him, but as they did not head up the stairs, and instead moved down the hallway to an unused classroom, Remus assumed the answer had been no. He was vaguely aware that hand holding onto him was beginning to hurt. Of course, since there was a much stronger hurt elsewhere, he paid it no heed. His own hands had still not released the letter. James let go of his shoulder as they all took seats on top of desks.

"Moony," James said in a quiet but firm voice. "What happened?"

With a strength he did not no he had, Remus managed to thrust the parchment out of his hands and into those of James. The other Marauder's eyes scanned the letter briefly, and when he finished, he was enraged. "'_Extreme political activists?_'" he said in a dangerous voice. "_That's_ what they're calling these bastards?" James looked ready spit fire.

"What the hell are you talking about, Prongs?" Sirius demanded, taking the letter from the other boy. He too read the letter, only to be filled with a burning anger apparent on his face. He shoved the letter at Peter, and looked at James. "Activists," he repeated, looking disgusted. "What are the protesting against? Ethics? Decency? _Sanity?_" he sneered. Sirius's face was contorted with rage and bitterness. He seemed to emanate a barely controlled air of violence.

"Unbelievable," Peter exclaimed, as he finished reading. "The Ministry's mad. '_We may not have the resources'_? Since when did _murder_ become so low on their list of priorities?"

James ran a hand through his hair. "The Ministry of Magic is in denial. They know these attacks are more than random, that these _activists_ are more than that. They know it, and they're stretching their resources thin trying to cover it up, because they want the public to see what they want them to see: that the Ministry's doing a fantastic job, and everyone should go about their day and not worry about their little sister being _stolen out of their home,_ their mother being _murdered_, about their father being kidnapped and _tortured until he talks_."

"How long do you think they'll do this?" Sirius asked incredulously. "The attacks have been going on for years, it's just gotten worse and worse over the past few ones. It's a war out there now, no matter who says any different. The _Prophet_'s all over it, talking about 'You-Know-Who' and all his supporters ready to kill Muggle-borns and anyone who stands in their way."

"_You-Know-Who_," spat James. "Why won't they just say the name? It's Voldemort, Dumbledore's not afraid to say it, we shouldn't be either."

"It's fear-mongering. They make him seem more powerful by telling you what he's done, but not using the name of the man behind it. It's like he's this anonymous power that can destroy you in seconds. His supporters are doing it to their own end, the Ministry is doing it not to cause a panic." said Sirius, grimacing. "Honestly, people are dying every minute, it's a little difficult for people not to panic."

Remus finally found his voice. "The Ministry," he croaked softly, "is full of shit. I don't even know who- who... killed my parents..." His voice trailed off into silence and his eyes stung, and their was a lump in his throat he could not seem to get rid of. He bowed his head his vision became blurry once more as tears clouded his eyes. He hated crying. He willed the moisture not to fall, but it did not comply.

A moment of silence found the room. Each took their time remembering Mr. and Mrs. Lupin, and the minutes they had spent in their company. Mr. Lupin, once a talented member of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, devoted the rest of his living days to finding a cure for his son's lycanthropy. It was warrant for arrest of Fenrir Greyback that had prompted said villain to hunt down Lupin's family if the case was not withdrawn. Mr. Lupin did not back down, and on an evening which a young Remus disobeyed the strict rule of not playing outside after dark, his son was changed. Mr. Lupin never forgave himself, though it truly wasn't his fault. Mrs. Lupin was a kind, Muggle woman, who did not understand much of the magical world, but coped with her son's condition and husband's guilt as much as any woman, magic or Muggle, could. She sent each one of the four brownies on their birthday, though she'd only met with them a handful of times (Remus tried not to burden his parents in the holidays). She taught at a daycare during the school year.

"We'll find out who did this, Moony." James uttered with conviction. "My father's in the Auror department, he knew your parents, he won't let it go. You know he won't."

In a choked voice, Remus managed to say, "I know, Prongs." He took a heavy, waterlogged breath. "Can I- could I have a moment alone?" he requested, not meeting anyone's eye.

All nodded, and took their leave. James lingered behind for a moment. "We will." was all he said, before shutting the door.

And once alone, Remus did not comply himself to do anything. He let himself dissolve. Into anger, into loss, into tears.

* * *

The following week was a difficult one for Remus. His parent's funeral was held, and their will read shortly after. He missed three full days (not uncommon for him, but the timing caused more people to notice) and by the time he was back in lessons, everyone seemed to be aware of his loss. Many offered their condolences, including those who he had not spoken a word to throughout his schooling. Some even walked straight up to him and asked him how they died. People he barely knew hung around him just to see how he was doing, sometimes not even bothering to have the pretense of conversation, just holding him and telling him he would be fine. To which he would reply, "I'd be fine sooner if you all bloody left me alone."

The worst, however, was the following Friday. The headline on the first page of the Daily Prophet that morning read: **Aberfeldy Suspects Released**. The article read that the previous night, there had been four interrogations that took place about the attack. Each had remained steadfast that they were not there, and their abilis checked out, but every eye-witness account repeated their exact descriptions. They had been released from Ministry hold on the grounds that 'the investigation must move forward, and there were no further reasons to hold them'. Of course, everyone knew what the second part meant: they'd given the Ministry a load of gold to buy their way out.

Remus felt anger boil up within him. How dare they let them go; they had obviously planned this! Fifty-eight people had been killed that night, his parents included. His father was the only wizard in the area, and the only one who could raise his wand against the murderers. There were only four suspects seen, and they let all of the perfect matches _go?_

Peter walked into the Great Hall and took the seat to the right of Remus. "Morning, Moony," he murmured absently, before gathering food on his plate. When he received no response, the blond boy looked up. "What's wrong?"

"This," hissed Remus, throwing down the paper. "They fucking _bribed_ their way out of it. They're not being charged with a single thing."

James stormed into the hall. He quickly found his friends and sat down to speak. "My dad's just written. The Ministry ordered for the-"

"We know," cut off Remus lowly. "The Ministry continues to get more and more stupid every day. It's a war, and do they really think indebting themselves to Voldemort's followers will do any good? Money can't excuse murder."

Several of those within hearing distance of the group winced at the name. Betram Aubrey sat nearby and shot Remus a look. "Really, Lupin? Do you think that using _His_ name is a good idea? Hasn't his people killing your family taught you any lessons?"

Remus flinched and started to rise, but Peter put a restraining hand on his shoulder. James, unfortunately, Peter could not reach. He stood and glared at the fifth year. "Back off, Aubrey. Lupin'll use whatever name he wants for the bastard, so keep the nose on that enormously large head of yours out of his business."

Aubrey sneered. "You're going to get yourself killed, too, Potter. Shouting your political preferences now won't get you anywhere but six feet under."

"I'd rather be six feet under than a coward above ground," replied James with a final dark look, and sat back down. He looked at Remus's paper. "I've noticed they've stopped calling the attackers 'You-Know-Who's' supporters, at least in the Prophet. They've started calling them by what he calls them: Death Eaters. I mean, they've mentioned the term a few times, but only on the larger attacks. They still won't say Voldemort, but at least that's something." He addressed his observations directly to Peter and Remus, not sparing Aubrey a glance.

"Death Eaters." repeated Peter. "What kind of an awful name is that?"

"Awful name, awful people, Wormtail," cut in Sirius as he sauntered toward Gryffindor table, hands in his pockets. He slid into place next to James, removing his hands from their resting place to grab the paper James had nicked from Remus. "I don't suppose their message would be conveyed as effectively if they called themselves the 'Sushine Pixies', now would it?" His eyes scanned the article. A look of loathing soon took over his face. "What utter dung. '_No further reasons_', really? Who are they trying to fool? Merlin, give the Ministry some gold in they're in your pocket for life. I should know, the Blacks have done it for ages."

Remus sighed, rubbing his temples. It did nothing to soothe the migraine which plagued him; it was too early to deal with these issues. For god's sake, he'd just attended his mother and father's funeral days before. A dull ache which he was beginning to become accustomed to set of in his chest at the thought. His gran had opted for open-casket, which had made the event a thousand times more painful. He sagged in his seat, no longer hungry.

"We should head to Transfiguration," murmured Peter. "Breakfast's almost over anyway, and I don't know about you, but I've not much of an appetite anymore,"

Remus lifted his head to watch the two dark-haired Gryffindors across from him nod their assent. In turn, his three friends looked to him for confirmation, and he moved his head up and down in a weary nod. After this silent exchange, the four Marauders made their way out of the hall.

In his state of lethargy and preoccupation, Remus was not paying much attention to his surroundings, and so it should not have been surprising to him when he crashed straight into another student, knocking himself and the other person straight to the floor. Hoping it was not someone who would take offense (he really could not handle it at this moment), he distractedly mumbled, "Sorry, my fault," while trying to ignore the pain in his backside.

"I'm fine," responded a female voice. "Relatively, anyway."

He looked up. The object of his friend's affections, Lily Evans, sat -laid might be a better term, as she was almost on her back- before him, rubbing her tailbone. It appeared his friends hadn't noticed the fall, as they were much further down the corridor. He sighed once more. He would catch up to them later. "If you're sure. Are you heading down to breakfast? Isn't it a little late?" he inquired, partly out of curiousity, partly so he would not return to his own thoughts.

"No, actually," said Lily, shaking her head as she stood and brushed herself off. She held out a hand to him. "I left my schoolbag in the Great Hall, and needed to double back to get it." she explained.

Remus nodded in understanding once he was on his feet again. He next asked her if she would like any company on her way to the Great Hall. Though it was out of his way, and it might be best if he headed to Transfiguration, he was a gentleman, and all that it entailed required chivalry.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'll be fine," Lily replied. She looked at him with a scrutinizing gaze. "You don't seem too fine, though. It's understandable, I heard about what happened. You must've heard this far too often, but I'm sorry. Your parents were lovely people. If you need to talk, I'll be around." She did not have an expression of pity, but one of understanding. Her words shouted their sincerity.

Being the prefects for Gryffindor house the previous year, the two had formed an acquaintanceship. They would talk during their patrol (never about his friends, or her friendship with Snape, there were some subjects they had to tread lightly upon) and they corresponded over the summer after their fifth year. They'd even run into each other in Diagon Alley, which is where she'd met his father. (She met his mother on the platform that very year.) While, yes, she was correct in the statement he'd heard it too much, he didn't mind it all the same, coming from someone who actually knew him. "Thanks, Lily. I'll keep that in mind." Looking at his watch, he said, "I should head to Transfiguration. The lads are waiting for me."

Lily nodded and said her farewell before departing to her destination. Remus hurried to his class after gathering his bearings. Unfortunately, the journey to class alone gave him time to think.

Thinking was quickly becoming one of Remus's least favourite things.

* * *

The rest of his day passed without much event. Peter lost his wand, James hit on Lily, and Sirius hexed a Slytherin who antagonized him, resulting in detention, but it was a relatively calm day after the morning. But on Saturday morning at breakfast (like thinking, breakfast was becoming on of Remus's least favourite things) the Daily Prophet landed in front of him once more, and in wartime, did newspapers ever hold good news?

He did not skip to the crossword on this day, for he hadn't done a crossword since the day he'd received the dreadful letter. He saw the front of the paper. Another attack, of course, was on the front page. He frowned, but was somewhat relieved to see that the family targeted had not been injured, as they were on vacation. Lower, on that very page, was what concerned him. There, the headline was this: **Aberfeldy Suspects: Names to Their Faces**. His quickly looked down for the information he sought, his heart pounding in his chest. Somewhere in the middle of the article, he caught sight of it. _This Prophet reporter has done the almost impossible with the tight security measures the Ministry is taking; I managed to find out the names of those supposedly 'cleared'. The four people brought in for questioning days previous are: Rudolphus Lestrange, Alecto Carrow, Antonin Doholov and Bellatrix Black. Lestrange and Black have been implicated in previous attacks, and I caught wind of the information that she is most likely responsible for the death of the only wizard in the area._ Near the bottom of the page were pictures of the suspects, and Remus thought that Bellatrix's grey eyes looked the most hollow and cold.

_Most likely responsible for the death of the only wizard in the area,_ rung a hollow voice through Remus's mind. That meant that she... that Bellatrix... He could not finish the thought. He shook with an indescribable anger. He needed to get out of there, before he did something he regretted. He crumpled the paper, shoving it into his robes, and practically ran out of the room.

On the journey to Gryffindor Tower, his mind raced. He thought about what he would do if he could get his hands on Bellatrix. He hadn't ever been at Hogwarts with her, because she was a good decade older than him, but he had met her once while at Sirius's house in third year. She was the most awful woman he'd ever met. She was a great deal crueler than Sirius's mother, though they hadn't thought it possible until they saw her slay a house elf, stating it was too old to continue sufficient work.

This repulsive thought was brought to an abrupt end when he collided with someone for the second time that week. A girl in his year and house, Amelia Lennox, was now the person that suffered casualties from Remus's distraction. He was in too much of a state of shock and anger to breathe, let alone help her up, so he did not.

"Ow," Amelia rubbed her back as she stood up. She held a hand out to him.

Remus looked at her hand strangely, as if he did not know what to do with it. He did not make any movement from his place on the floor. He sat there, staring at the arm of the girl who he might have apologized to, if his brain could function.

"Are you okay?"

The words set off a chain reaction in his mind.

_Are you okay?_ His mother said every time he came back from St. Mungo's, where he was sent to transform in the holidays.

_Are you okay?_ His father would say in letters every so often.

_Are you okay?_ Every damn gossiping Hogwarts student he knew for the past week.

_Are you okay?_ Dumbledore, the day after he found out.

_Are you okay?_ Lily, Frank, Alice, Dorcas, Mary, James, Sirius, Peter.

He was _not _okay. He was not okay and he needed to get out of Hogwarts, get out in the real world, hunt down Bellatrix and duel her, or better yet, get her with his own hands because she would _never_ touch anyone in his life again if he could help it. He resolved right then and there to leave the school and rid the world of that heinous woman.

Ignoring Amelia, he stood and bolted towards the common room. He muttered the password, and did not pay anyone in the room heed, making a beeline for the dormitories. Heart pounding, he raced up the stairs to his shared room and when inside, he started to throw items out of his trunk. It wouldn't be prudent to carry frivolous things if he didn't know how long it would take until he was back. Old quills, the the odd sock, most of his school books, they all were tossed one after another.

"Oi! _Transfiguration Theory?_ Why're you tossing your textbooks? What are you looking for?" came a voice from the door.

Remus continued to throw things. "Not looking for anything. I'm leaving." he replied shortly, not caring about to whom he was speaking.

A hand came to his shoulder, and he turned, and for a moment all he saw was eyes. _Her_ eyes. Cold, grey, no regrets. The edges of his vision tinged with red. His hands moved forward involuntarily to strike.

"Moony, are you mad?" cried Sirius, jerking away from his friend as Remus's vision returned to normal. "You can't leave, not now, you... you're a sixth year, you don't know nearly enough to defend yourself yet. And hell, you know if anyone of us was going to jump off the train it'd be me, mate! I'm the twisted one, not you, you've actually got a chance of _doing_ something with yourself!"

"_Doing_ something with myself?" Remus replied scornfully. "A penniless orphaned werewolf, yeah, I'm sure everyone would just think it damned _peachy_ if I sent in my resume. I am _not _staying here, I'm going to hunt that bitch down and make her pay for what she did!"

The dark-haired wizard stilled. "Who did what?" he responded carefully, his eyes narrowing.

"Bellatrix- Bellatrix _Black_," the other said, his eyes widening. Suddenly, he had a thought. "_Did you have something to do with it_?" Remus hissed, drawing near the person before him.

Grey eyes stared in confusion. The boy acted as if he was surprised by what his roommate was saying, as if _he hadn't known all along._ "What the hell, Moony? With _what_? You know I don't have anything to do with the Blacks anymore, and I swear to Merlin I'll make Bellatrix pay for whatever she did, but _I_ had nothing to do with it!" Sirius growled angrily, seeming infuriated at the suggestion. But he was a good actor, Remus ought to have known, the number of times they'd lied for each other.

The werewolf scoffed. "Nothing to do with it? You expect me to believe that? It's your family, _Black_. _Toujours Pur_, isn't it?" he yelled, pushing Sirius in the chest. "You're all the same, every last one of you! Your damned cousin who _killed_ my father. None of you know the consequences of your actions, or value of life, because you were all bloody born _heartless._" he spat, pushing him again.

"I am NOT one of them!" Sirius screamed, retaliating with enough force to cause Remus to hit the ground. The Marauder drew his wand and looked down upon his so-called 'friend'.

"Yeah, attack a man while he's down, that's your style, isn't it?" Remus sneered, pushing himself off of the ground. He looked Sirius in the eyes. "Your cousin killed my father, your brother tortures Muggle-borns, you lured Snape down into the Whomping Willow last year and _used_ me to try and turn him, or kill him, or whatever else was going on in your sick mind! You're a _murderer_, Sirius Black. It's alright, I don't blame you; it's in your blood." he whispered, a twisted sort of half-grin on his face.

That was his breaking point. Forgetting the wand in his hand, Sirius lunged. He tackled Remus to the ground and delivered blow after blow, most likely hoping that each strike hurt as much as the other's words had. A knock to the head, a beating to the ribcage, twisting every available appendage. Remus did not take this lying down. He threw just as many punches, and thrashed underneath him until he had the upper hand. He pinned the boy and hit every inch of him he could reach. As he drew his fist back for another blow, he was unexpectedly grabbed and thrown to the other side of the dorm.

"What the hell is going on?" James asked, drawing his wand and producing a shield between the two boys. His eyes darted to Sirius instinctively.

"Ask him," spat Sirius, glaring coldly across the room.

James turned to the sandy-haired Gryffindor and gave him a look that said he better well answer. "I was just making an observation to Black that it's obviously okay for him to be a murdering son-of-a-bitch, it's family tradition after all." remarked Remus with a grim smile.

The third member of their group narrowed his eyes. "Why the hell are you having a go at Padfoot? When we forgave him, we agreed to put everything that happened last year behind us, the Whomping Willow incident included. You've no right to throw it back in his face." James looked frustrated, as if something was missing from the equation.

"I'm 'having a go at him' because his family is made of cruel bastards with no regard for human life, and he's no different!" shouted Remus, drawing his wand, "Bellatrix didn't give a damn about slaughtering an entire town, including my father, and Black doesn't give a damn about anyone's life but his own, that much is sure."

"Y-your father?" stuttered James, and momentarily his guard was down. The shield charm faltered, and both infuriated males raised their wands and began to shoot spells at one another. James cast the charm again, but as he did, one of Sirius's spells went astray and hit him in the eyes. Though James wore glasses, the Conjunctivitus curse managed to get to his face, and soon his eyes were in searing pain. He swore loudly, dropping his wand as both hands clutched his burning eyes.

This briefly distracted the two boys. "Prongs! Merlin, I-I'm sorry, the curse went off target," apologized the long-haired wizard, moving towards his friend.

Remus let out a mirthless laugh. "Showing your true colours once again, hm? Willing to hurt anyone as long your purpose is served?"

Sirius glared. "Burn in hell, Lupin. I'm not finished with you. Now reverse it, I can't remember the counter-curse."

"Sure thing," replied the other, smirking, "I, on the other hand, think before I act." He waved his wand and the curse was silently reversed. Shortly after, he turned back to Sirius and pointed his wand at his chest.

James let out an irritable growl. "_Expelliarmus!_" he called, and both wands flew out of their owners' hands. Stowing them away in his pocket, he began to shout. "You two are idiots! Moony, you're an idiot because, for one, Sirius has been at Hogwarts with you this whole time, and literally can't have physically been involved. For two, he's one of your best mates, he's been so for six years, he risks his life on a monthly basis for you, and you'd have to be absolutely daft to think he doesn't _care_ for you.

"Padfoot, you're an idiot because Remus has just lost his parents, obviously he's not thinking rationally, and fighting back is not the answer! Obviously Moony cares for _you_, he constantly looks the other way when we're being gits, stops us getting ourselves killed or something equally stupid, ignores how you don't think before you act, and forgave you for the shit you did in fifth year. You're off your rocker if you forget how much he cares. And Moony, you're off your rocker if you forget how much _you_ care!"

The room grew silent, but for heavy breathing. Slowly, Remus began to replay the past few minutes in the head, and as James's words also replayed, he realized how little the former made sense. The anger towards Sirius subsided slightly. His pride did not want him to apologize, but he quietly grunted, "He's right."

Sirius gave a noncommittal noise, scowling. "Doesn't sound like an apology, Lupin." he responded, still clearly angry. Justifiably so, but it did not make it any easier on Remus to apologize to the person making unpleasant faces at him.

"Sorry," muttered Remus, rolling his eyes. "I was a git." he added for good measure.

Sirius shrugged and did not reply. James shot him a look, and he sighed. "Yeah, well, so was I..." he said grudgingly. "I know what it's like... not to have your family around. 'Cept mine, they chose... to not have me around. Yours loved you, and all that. They didn't want to leave you." He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.

"We want you around, Padfoot," interjected James. "My parents want you too, you know that."

The pseudo-tender moment was broken when Peter Pettigrew burst into the room. "What's all this?" he asked, looking between them. "I was on my way up to the dorm when I heard yelling."

James grinned. "We were just having a _moment_, Wormtail, before you ruined it. But, your timing is good. Mind running over to my trunk and finding the The Code?" he said, his smile widening.

Remus frowned. "Why would we need that?" the weary boy asked.

The shaggy-haired Marauder seemed unable to contain his glee. "You see, my dear Moony, what with you chickening out on the whole Giant Squid stunt a few weeks ago, you broke the first rule of The Code; being up to no good. And what with letting it slip to Dorcas Meadowes that Pete here is head over heels for her; number eight, the keeping secrets rule, this little incident brings it up to... three infractions, is it?" he inquired with a huge smirk.

Sirius snickered, but James turned his smirk to him then, too. "I wouldn't be so amused, Black. Let's see, you missed the full moon because you took the blame for the Giant Squid stunt, landing yourself in detention. You pushed Evans in the lake a few days ago, clearly breaking the traits of Godric Gryffindor rule, have you heard of chivalry? Not to mention that we forgot to take into account that you too were involved in the spilling of Wormtail's secret. Three offenses for the both of you. I think a Marauder trial is in order."

Peter came back from rifling through James's things and grinned as well. "Marauder Trial in session," the mousy-haired boy stated. "Now, since the two of you are the ones being trialed, Prongs and I are the only ones who's votes count. All in favour of the default punishment?" He, along with James, raised his hand. "Running by McGonagall's office in your skivvies it is. Good luck to you, mates. Marauder Trial adjourned."

Sirius loudly protested, and Remus wholeheartedly agreed with him. "Too late," James sing-songed.

A ridiculous argument ensued. Somewhere in the scuffle, Sirius had declared that no more they cared for would die at Bellatrix's hand if he had anything to say about it. He then began to act out a dramatic battle between himself and his cousin. Peter cheered, James joined in, and Remus rolled his eyes but appreciated the gesture all the same. Sirius also vowed that he would exact his revenge upon James and Peter for their betrayal of their most loyal best friends.

But the next evening, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black landed up in the Transfiguration classroom, flicking bits of parchment at each other when they weren't being watched, with a stern Professor McGonagall who could not seem to look them in the eyes.

He was broken, but he knew better.


	4. Because He Had To

**The Code Part 4 - Peter**

_13. Finally, in accepting that you are a Marauder, you give your solemn oath that you would die for your brother should the occasion come._

He didn't want to, but he did.

Peter Pettigrew, Hogwarts graduate and member of Order of the Phoenix, sat in a dimly-lit pub laughing with his friends. "-And then the bloke just walks off like nothing happened!" recounted Sirius Black, guffawing loudly. His words earned another series of sniggers from those in his company.

"You know what I'm thinking about?" James Potter asked the others, bright-eyed and grinning.

"Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration?" guessed Sirius, leaning back comfortably in his chair.

James laughed loudly, but shook his head. "Seventh year," the dark-haired man announced. "Tonight reminds me so much of it. We're sitting around, drinking too much firewhiskey, laughing our arses off at nothing at all while we should probably be doing something else. I missed this," he said, grinning wider.

"I think you're a bit tipsy," commented Remus Lupin, waving his own glass around for emphasis.

"Perhaps," James agreed with a nod. "But all the same, I'd like to propose a toast. To seventh year, and all that it represents. Choices, surprises, love and bloody good brothers,"

They all raised their glasses and drank to his words. "Speaking of love," Sirius said, looking at James, "Isn't your wife going to be awfully hacked off at you for hanging out at pubs until the wee hours of the morning when she'll be ready to pop out an ickle Potter sometime soon?"

James glanced at his watch, and repeated the action with widened eyes. "It's _that_ late? Lily's going to murder me if I'm not home soon. Believe me, no one wants to be around Lily when she's very pregnant and very angry. Twice as moody, thrice as violent." He slapped down some money for his drinks and stood. "I'm off, mates. Wish me luck!" he said, tipping an invisible hat to his friends before spinning around and running out of the pub.

"I'd never thought I'd see the day when our Prongs was so submissive to a _female_," commented Sirius, speaking of the gender as if it was a dirty word. He shook his head, smirking.

Remus gave a small smile. "Everyone else did. Lily had him gone over her far before they started going out. Even when he was 'an arrogant toerag', he would've jumped of the astronomy tower if she'd asked him to." He paused and thought. "Well, actually, I do recall her _actually_ asking him to do that once, so maybe not. But even so, he'd do something equally ridiculous," he said with a shrug. Remus's opinions weren't very far from the truth. Loyalty was a trait that was very strong in James. His friends, wife and unborn child were his life, and he would willingly offer it up if it meant keeping them alive.

"Very true, Moony," said Peter, raising his glass to his lips.

Looking around the bar, it was plain that the number of people spending their night out had greatly decreased. Peter inferred that it had something to do with the current war being waged in the wizarding world. Voldemort, a sickening devil of a man, believed that there should be no Muggle-borns, or Muggles for that matter. He wanted a world of only wizarding blood. But from what Peter had learned from the Order, an organization which was fighting for Voldemort's defeat, the man himself was a half-blood. Peter shook his head in disgust. What a man, to kill that which is innocent, which is good, which is a part of himself.

Remus too seemed to notice the quiet around their little group. "Everyone's too afraid to leave their homes," he murmured, peering around, his voice much unhappier than earlier. He slumped over in his chair slightly, pinching the bridge his nose with a pained expression. "I hate this war. It's torn everything apart, including our own lives." He lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper and said, "What do you think about the prophecy?"

Sirius slammed his fist on the table, attracting the attention of the few people who had come out that night. He kept his voice quiet too, though clearly he was in the mood to scream. "I think it's a load of bullshit; why the hell is Voldemort concerned about a baby? Can't he just leave the kid alone 'til it's older? Like a toddler will be able to do what thousands of trained witches and wizards haven't be able to?"

Remus sighed. "Don't ask me to decipher how such a psychotic person's mind works. I don't know why he would go after a child either, but think of this: the man we're talking about is on a mission to off an entire race of people, two races if you want to break it up into Muggles and Muggle-borns. He obviously isn't the most sane person in the world," As Remus spoke, he grew even paler than usual, his mind probably on the two friends this concerned most.

Peter agreed with Remus. He hated the war with all the anger he had. There was a prophecy made that Dumbledore had told James and Lily about. It was about a boy who 'had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord'. The child was supposed to be born in July, to parents who'd faced him three times and lived. There were only two families which fit all the conditions: the Potters and the Longbottoms. But Dumbledore had said that Voldemort thought it was the Potters, and so had advised them to go into hiding. And they would, soon. James only had one week to wrap up loose ends before he would not be allowed to go about as he did anymore, not be able to participate in Order missions, not hang out with his friends at bars like that night, none of it. "It's not fair," Peter mumbled, leaning back in his chair. "Why should so many people have to die because one psycho has acceptance issues?"

"Life isn't fair, Wormtail." said Sirius bitterly. "And you'd be fooling yourself if you thought it was only one person. There's been prejudice in the wizarding world ages before Voldemort; just look at my family. It's that this psycho is the person who took it too far. Who took it beyond sneering comments and hurtful bias. Effing bastard," he spat, his lip curled up in an unpleasant look.

"Disgusting git," joined in Peter angrily.

Remus shook his head when the other two looked at him. "As much as I'd like to participate in the cussing out of the darkest wizard of our time, you must know that calling him names won't fix a bloody thing," He slumped farther in his chair, staring hard at his now empty glass. There was a moment of silence between the three friends, and quietly, Remus said, "You ever think maybe we're fighting a lost battle here? That Voldemort will win out eventually, so there's no point in trying any longer?"

"Excuse me?" Peter spluttered. He thought he must have misheard it, because surely, Remus didn't truly believe those words.

The werewolf frowned. "You heard me, don't make me say it again. It was hard enough the first time."

Sirius looked at his sandy-haired friend with raised eyebrows. "Where's this coming from, Moony? I thought the fight for good meant something to you. I think you of all people should understand that it's unfair for someone to be treated horribly and murdered for something they can't control,"

"Sirius, yes, I of all people know how unfairly people can be treated," Remus started, sighing, "But that's just the point. I've realized the fact that when it comes to certain things, there are opinions that people have that will never change. Even if Voldemort doesn't win, there will still be prejudice against Muggle-borns. Who's to say there won't be another person just like him that starts this all up again in twenty years? I'm just wondering whether this fight is going anywhere, actually doing any good, you know?" He shrugged and asked the barkeep for another drink.

Peter was shocked at Remus. Remus had always been the moral backbone of the group, always telling the other Marauders when to draw the line. But now, it appeared as if he'd lost hope, and whether this was temporary or permanent, Peter was unsure of. "We're at least saving some people, though admittedly we can't save them all. But if we're able to save at least one life in this whole jumbled up mess, isn't it all worth it?"

"I never thought I'd say this, but Pete's right," said Sirius, nodding in the shorter man's direction. Sirius's expression turned into a somewhat amused, somewhat bewildered smile. "I don't know what I should be more afraid of, the fact that Moony's taken my place as the resident cynic, or the fact that Wormtail seems to have become the intelligent one," he murmured.

"Hey!" protested Peter. "I'm intelligent. I just choose not to display it at most times," he added, grinning good-naturedly.

Remus was not coaxed out of his state by the humour of his friends. "I just don't know about anything anymore." Remus lowered his voice to a point where it was almost inaudible, but his friends had heightened senses from being Animagi, so they could hear him. "Did you know that I was contacted once, to work for Voldemort? It was subtle, but it was clear that he wanted someone with a furry little problem on his side. That's why I moved."

Sirius's mouth hung agape. "Why didn't you tell us, Moony? Why didn't you tell the Order?" he asked incredulously.

"I told Dumbledore. I didn't find it necessary to tell anyone else." Remus looked away from the others. "I thought you might overreact. I just... I'm tired of fighting right now."

Peter was left speechless. Remus had not kept anything this big from them since second year. Peter was almost starting to believe his friend's loyalty to the Order, to the good side, was wavering. He didn't want to believe it, but the way his friend was speaking made it hard not to think. He tried to push the thoughts out of his head with great difficulty and kept his mouth shut, for fear of what he might insinuate.

Sirius, on the other hand, was in no mood to keep his mouth shut. "How can you even think like that?" he hissed in an undertone. "With Prongs and Lily in danger, that's even more reason to fight for what's right! Do you want that on your head? Knowing that if they died, you didn't do everything in your power to prevent that? What is _wrong _with you, Remus?" The black-haired man scowled at his friend and continued to snap in a voice so low that the people around them could not hear. "If you think the fight is so useless, maybe you should've accepted Voldemort's offer."

Remus stood up from his seat and leaned his face down near Sirius's, rage clear in his features. "I do care about what happens to James and Lily and don't you for one damn second imply that I don't, Sirius Black. You have to learn that just because someone's tired of fighting, doesn't mean they'll stop!"

"I know that, Remus. I'm just not sure which side you want to fight for anymore," snapped Sirius coldly. At his words, Remus threw his money down for the drinks and took his leave, only offering Sirius an impolite hand gesture. Sirius sighed and rose as well, handing the barkeep his money and pulling on his jacket. "I need to go, Pete. Maybe we can meet up some other time; when Remus decides what kind of person he wants to be,"

Unsettled, Peter decided it was time for him to go home as well, and so he did. He apparated just outside his flat and took down the barriers momentarily so he could get inside. He put them up again and stepped inside. He threw his own jacket down on a chair and headed towards the couch, not in the mood to go to bed immediately. But he was surprised to see that there was already a man sitting there. If you could call the person sitting there a man, that is.

"Peter Pettigrew," said Voldemort in a cold, high voice. "Or is it Wormtail?" The Dark Lord held up letters from the Marauders he was looking through, gesturing to whom they were addressed.

His breath caught in his throat. He'd considered the possibility of this happening, but only in abstract. Now that he was here, the blood in the young man's veins went cold. Peter reached into his pocket for his wand, but Voldemort laughed, an unsettling sound. "I would not do that in your place, Wormtail. I think we both are aware that you are not the dueler your friends are. I am not here to fight you. I have a proposal for you to work for me."

"Not a bloody chance," said Peter in a voice braver than he felt. His heart pounded his chest, his fear mounting as he prepared himself to stand up against the most dangerous wizard in the world. He started to sweat, and he wanted to hyperventilate but did not want to seem any more afraid than he already was.

"You Gryffindors," murmured Voldemort, what one might call a smile forming on his face. "Always so stubborn and hot-headed. And I've not even told you exactly what I'm offering. You are friends with Lily and James Potter. So I assume they've told you about the prophecy that was made about their unborn son?" Peter glared at the man, but gave no answer. "I take your silence as your response. I do not fear anyone, but precautions must be taken. I cannot have the Mudbloods and blood-traitors gaining hope, you understand. So, I offer you a position among my men, to take watch of the Potters. You would inform me of their movements and decisions. You will be greatly rewarded, of course, should you succeed. Power, glory, fame; all the things you could not gain in the shadow of your comrades."

_Power, glory, fame._ Though these words appealed to baser instincts within the wizard, he could not allow himself to be fooled. Peter's hands were shaking, and he had to clench them. With all the courage he had, he spat, "I would _never_ betray James and Lily. Not in this lifetime!"

Voldemort sighed, seeming very tired. "I thought as much. _Crucio!_" he called out, pointing his wand at the other.

Peter fell to the floor as every inch of him felt as it was on fire. He wanted to stay strong, but Merlin it hurt, and he _screamed_. And as he made his agony known, the person whom he had denied was laughing. He watched the man writhe in pain and _laughed_, cold and high. Peter wished he would go unconscious, but the pain would not allow him to. This torture continued, and Peter did not know how long. He could not keep track of time while he was burning alive from the inside out. When he was almost ready to beg for this to end, the pain ceased.

"Have you chosen to reconsider?" The laughter had not quite left his expression.

Peter's resolve was weak, but it was still there. And as he dragged himself off of the floor, his balance precarious, he managed to gasp, "No,"

"I prefer not to spill pure blood, but often it is a necessity. _Avada-_"

"Wait!" yelled Peter before Voldemort could complete the curse. The smile returned to Voldemort's face. "I wouldn't have to hurt them, would I? I'd just have to tell you what they were doing?"

"Yes, Wormtail. You will follow the Potters' every movement and report back to me. You will have to take down those who stand your way. You cannot let a single person know what you are planning, or you will suffer deeply. You must give me your allegiance, and you shall survive. Do not pretend to know things you do not; or offer me false loyalty, for Lord Voldemort knows when you are lying." The person who seemed more snake than human looked straight at him, as if he were reading his mind. Peter remembered Dumbledore saying that Voldemort was skilled at Legilimency.

"B-but my friends. They'd be safe, right? No one would hurt them, or me?" he asked, trembling.

"You will not be killed if you join me," Voldemort responded, red eyes glinting.

Peter could not help but notice that his questions hadn't been answered, not really. But he knew that this was his only choice, and it was his life that was on the line. He had to do this. He swallowed loudly, his mind screaming at him, furious at his betrayal to those he loved. "I-I'll do it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He thought it might crack with emotion.

A vindictive satisfaction was apparent on Voldemort's face. "Hold out your arm," he ordered and Peter did so, rolling up his sleeve. He seemed perform a spell, and Peter did not know what until the pain started.

The least courageous Marauder looked at his arm, frightful of what he might find. He saw a skull, throbbing uncomfortably on his skin. Peter was repulsed, and wanted to look away, but the tattoo was not yet finished. Peter's heart thudded louder than it ever had as a serpent slithered out of the skull's mouth and settled onto his arm. As if the allegiance he'd just sworn wasn't enough proof of his betrayal, his skin was forever marked with the evidence of what he was going to do.

"Goodbye, Peter Pettigrew. I look forward to hearing from you," the pale half-man said. Voldemort took his leave of the dingy flat, easily removing the apparation barriers the owner had cast.

Memories in Peter's mind went on a continuous loop.

He remembered the black-haired eleven-year-old punching three Slytherins who had been picking on him, claiming it was cowardly to outnumber someone and hex them when their back was turned. He'd then helped Peter up, and walked with him to their next class. He thought of the sweet young girl helping him with his Charms homework in third year, though he knew she did not like him or his friends. He recalled the tall, lanky Marauder stepping in front of Peter when the Cruciatus curse was cast on their first Order mission. He vividly saw and felt Lily hugging him on her wedding day, laughing and crying. He heard the two announcing the pregnancy, rosy-cheeked and delirious with happiness.

He hoped he never had to see their faces after they'd found out what he'd done, and was to do.

That night, Peter tried many things to get rid of his new tattoo. He tried washing the Dark Mark printed on his skin off, with the most scalding hot water possible, but all it did was burn the skin around it. He tried covering it with the powder that female Muggles used on their skin, but the powder would not touch it. He tried magicking it off, but this just caused the skin around it to be removed, exposing flesh. No matter what he did, the pulsating Dark Mark would not budge. Peter was filled with anger at Voldemort for forcing him into this situation, and filled with self-loathing for what he had done.

Peter rolled up his other sleeve, to see the other tattoo that he was marked with. This was not a mark of evil and hatred, but a marked which proved his bond of friendship. In seventh year, all four Marauders had gotten tattoos to celebrate the end of their Hogwarts careers, and the dawn of a new era. A simple _M_ done in red and outlined in gold. Peter's hands were still trembling as he touched it. He closed his eyes. _I don't deserve it now, _he thought.

* * *

The next morning, Peter went to visit the Potter's, his full intention of confessing to them what he'd done, and trying somehow to gain their forgiveness. Then he remembered Voldemort's words the previous night. _Lord Voldmort knows when you are lying_. If Voldemort summoned him -which he very well could now that he was a... was one of them- he would know what he had done and Peter would be killed immediately. He tried to convince himself that James would want this, Peter doing whatever it took to stay alive.

James opened the door of their flat. Security was lax now; they would be moving very soon. "Hey Wormtail. Didn't know you were coming over, we're just packing. You can come on in, even help us if you like." James paused and grinned. "You know what, I changed my mind. If you choose to come in, you've got no choice but to help us. We have to do this the Muggle way because we can't attract a lot of attention, and you know magic leaves traces. Lily can't do any lifting, being pregnant and waddling about. I need some more man-power. My wife's a lovely woman, but at the moment she's absolutely useless."

"I heard that," came Lily's voice from inside. Along with her voice came a pillow, which promptly smacked him in the back of the head.

"I called you lovely!" James called back, but another pillow flew at his head all the same.

Peter smiled, though behind his smile his thoughts were dark. "Sure I'll help, Prongs, just show me what to lift." Peter flexed his arms, "I'm full of man-power," he gloated jokingly.

James nodded, sniggering. Peter was nowhere near the fittest of people, and they both knew it. "I bet you are, Pete." He looked closer at his friend, and frowned in concern. "You alright, mate? You don't look so good; maybe you should go home and get some rest. I'll manage,"

"I'm fine. I just didn't get much sleep last night." Peter shrugged nonchalantly, though he felt anything but that. He hadn't slept the entire night. He'd just stared at the two tattoos, going over every good moment he'd had while fighting against Voldemort, and every bad one. The guilt ate at him, but he couldn't bring himself to move. "C'mon, Prongsie, let's get to moving."

He gave his friend an odd look, which showed he knew there was more to it. Thankfully for Peter, James did not press the matter. "That's the spirit," he replied, throwing his arm around his mate and dragging him inside. The apartment was full of boxes, open and closed, big and small. Other than the boxes themselves, the room was rather barren.

James turned to Lily, who seemed to be bending down to get one of the lighter boxes. "Love, let me get that. You can organize the boxes, you're better at it than I am. Don't strain yourself, I don't want anything happening to you," He spoke gruffly, but his concern for her and their child was clear. The guilt wrenched through Peter's heart.

He watched the black-haired man take the box from his wife and set it down, pulling her into a strong embrace, one hand on her back, the other resting on her rounded belly. Wonder lit up James's face, a look echoed on that of Lily. "He's kicking," she murmured. "I've been pregnant eight bloody months, not a single kick. I can't believe it," She shook her head, but let out a small laugh.

"Damn, it's like he's ready to kick off the ground in there. Wants to fly like his old man, I bet," observed James with a hint of pride.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd find a way to relate a sentimental moment to Quidditch. Don't you pressure him into it if he doesn't want to do it." James looked outraged at the implication his son would not want to participate in Quidditch, and ready to protest, but Lily silenced him with a look. She gestured to Peter who was standing a little way away from them. "Come on, Pete, have a feel. It's the strangest feeling in the world."

"I don't think I sh-" was as far as the man got before Lily grabbed him and placed his hand on her stomach. Sure enough, there was something nudging his hand. For a moment, he let himself enjoy the wonderment. But the path his mind led would not let him forget, even for a second. A baby's foot. The foot of his friends' son. The son he would most likely help to destroy. Peter felt sick again.

He removed his hand. "Maybe I _should_ go home. I think the sandwich I had last night was a bit shady," he lied.

The worried look returned to James' face. "Alright, Wormtail, if you're sure." Lily must have noticed his displeasure, because she placed a hand on her husband's arm reassuringly.

"Goodbye," he said quietly. Peter turned his back on them that moment, in more than one sense.

* * *

Despite what Peter felt, time went on. Months passed, and things continued to happen. Remus and Sirius made up, to some extent. The man himself had never witnessed it, but they seemed to get on well enough in public. At the end of July, Lily had a baby boy that she and James named Harry. Sirius was named the godfather. Remus and Peter came to see him, and as he looked at the baby that had Lily's bright eyes, he swore he would tell them. He would tell them, and they would be disappointed, and lose trust in him, but he would apologize and they would eventually forgive him.

But as he opened his mouth to let out his confession, he found he could not breathe. The threat of Voldemort's wrath loomed over his head, and he tried to convince himself that James would want him to keep himself alive in any way he could. He shut his mouth, time and time again, because he was too much of a coward. He grew to consider himself the lowest form a man, rightfully so.

As much as he feared retribution for it, Peter's dearest wish was for his friends to tell him _nothing_. For them to not confide in him in the least, because it would be his duty to pass on the information if they did. He hated whenever they told him the smallest details of their life, it ate away at him so.

Possibly just as bad, Sirius grew more and more suspicious as the days went on, but not of him. Oh no, the one Sirius cast a wary eye over was Remus, and perhaps the lycanthrope knew, because he distanced himself from the others. Pangs of guilt hit him, as he was forced to go along and pretend he believed so ill of his friend. Sirius chose never to bring these suspicions up in front of James, because he grew defensive and irritated any time someone near them was suspected of a leak.

As Harry grew, Lily and James put up a happy front, but anyone could see the strain beneath their smiles. They feared for his safety more and more every day, and they often lashed out at one another because of their frustration. They loved and treasured their time with each other, but fought more often because of the turmoil they faced. James was extremely restless because, under Dumbledore's orders, he was not to leave the house (though he sometimes disobeyed this with the help of his invisibility cloak). Lily on the other hand, tried to busy herself to no avail. James told Peter that more than once he'd discovered her in kitchen, sobbing as she scrubbed the counters or something of the like. James would hold her and tell her it was okay, and she would cry harder because they both knew he was lying.

On a cold night in early September, the Potters asked Sirius Black to be the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius charm. Sirius, though honoured he was asked, denied the offer, citing that he was the most obvious choice. Everyone who knew James Potter knew that he and Sirius were inseparable, the brothers that outshined all biological bonds. And so, still cautious around Remus, he suggested that _Peter_ of all people be the one to keep the secret.

Peter, who was harbouring the greatest secret of all.

He wanted to scream when Sirius approached him with it. Forcing himself to be brave, he told Sirius no, several times. But Sirius would not let up, and kept telling him that it was what was best for James and Lily, and he ought to do it out of loyalty to them, if nothing else.

The mousy-haired man wanted to tell him the truth with all his heart: he was refusing to do it out of loyalty to them. If he did it... if he became what they wanted him to be... they were done for. They would die, and they would die at his hand, and as much as Peter could not live with himself already, he would never be able to face a mirror if he had their blood on his hands.

He begged Sirius to understand, saying that he was not brave enough, not intelligent enough for this duty. He told Sirius that he ought to do it, he was the one the Potters went to in the first place. But the dark-haired Marauder would not comply. He remained adamant that it was not safe to choose him, all would expect it, and Peter was perfectly capable of the position.

As the requests became more and more frequent, reaching the point when he was asked on a daily- no, hourly basis, Peter could not take it anymore. He conceded, if only to get Sirius out of his house. The moment he said yes, he was filled with regret. Sirius beamed and used his mirror to contact James. Soon the Potters were at the door step, veiled under the invisibility cloak.

"He's agreed," Sirius announced after the security questions had been answered, and the barriers lifted.

The door was pulled open. Though to the casual observer's eye, there was nothing awaiting them on the outside of Peter's flat, Sirius and Peter had seen James disappear under that cloak enough to know what was there. Once inside, Lily and James appeared, wands drawn. They stowed them as they recognized their friends. They needn't ask what Peter had agreed to.

Looking between his two friends, James sought confirmation for the statement, as if the words said through the door may have been a farce. Sirius smiled, and this was enough. James threw himself into a brotherly embrace with Peter. James swallowed audibly and said quietly, in a voice heavy with emotion, "I cannot describe... how much it means to me, that you're doing this, Wormtail."

After James moved aside, Lily wrapped her slender arms around the plump man. "Thank you, Peter. We trust you." she said, and as she pulled back her eyes glistened with tears.

Peter tried to keep his lip from quivering. It was very hard to meet her eyes. "_Please_, don't thank me. I... I want to," he lied.

Sirius clapped a hand on James's shoulder. "Where's Harry?" he inquired, looking around for his godson.

"We left him with Alice and Frank when you contacted us," Lily explained, rubbing at her eyes. She sighed, a sound mingled with relief and sadness. "Merlin, I have never felt so relieved and scared at the same time. I mean, we trust you with all our hearts, but it's a little nerve-wracking to place your life -and your _son's_ life- at the hands of someone other than yourself, you know? We are forever indebted to you for this, Pete. We would've made James the Secret Keeper, but we weren't sure about the rules of an inhabitant of the house being the Secret Keeper, and we trust the three of you more than anyone else in the world." Her sincerity rang through her words.

"A real hero, this Peter." Sirius declared, grinning with a nod towards his mate.

"A hero," echoed James, reaching out and ruffling the man's hair.

And it was James's voice that rang through his mind so many years after that, as a silver hand clasped around his throat.

He didn't want to, but he did.

_A/N: Thank you to those who have stuck with this, I love to hear from you. The third part was very difficult to get out. This all went a bit darker than I'd imagined, but I'm satisfied. Anything affliated with the Harry Potter series belongs to Joanne Rowling and the Warner Bros. _


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